


one night stand

by ClockWorkQueso



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Dom Kaneki, Dom/sub, M/M, Oh god, bc i have no self control, dont look at me, found this in my drafts, ignore the ugly formatting ao3 always fucks my fics sideways, it is SO SELF INDULGENT, it’s an au, might write more if I can sit down and WRITE, porn with more plot than I intended, slight BDSM, sub Hide, theres no age difference but Kaneki is a teacher and Hide is a student just fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28198857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockWorkQueso/pseuds/ClockWorkQueso
Summary: Hide starts a new semester tomorrow, his senior year of university. To get his mind off things, he tries out a new bar, taking the night off.Just as he’s about to turn in, he meets someone that checks all his boxes, and, despite what his brain tells him, decides to spend a night with this attractive stranger.
Relationships: Kaneki Ken | Sasaki Haise/Nagachika Hideyoshi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 117





	one night stand

Hide really shouldn’t be at this bar. Not that he’s really that up in a twist about it—it’s a nice place, good atmosphere, excellent drinks. There’s a nice, healthy mix between regular bar and nightclub; there’s just as many people gyrating to the bass-y, but enjoyable, music as there are just sitting at the bar, or at a table splitting overpriced bar food with their friends. Hide would like to join the party, but he’d have to save that for next time. It’s a bit out of the way to make it a regular thing, being quite a few miles from his apartment complex out by his university, but he’s prone to doing inconvenient things on a whim. The upcoming school year has him stressed as all hell; he came out for a change of pace, something new, something fun. He will admit, though—drinking, albeit rather lightly, probably isn’t conducive to starting his senior year off on the right foot. Tomorrow morning. Right.

Slipping his phone out of his pocket, Hide checks the time. Nearly midnight. He sighs, and commits to waving the bartender down so he can pay his tab and call a ride. She’s busy, but he thinks she gets the message, and he droops a bit on the bar, in a weird flux of sleepy and wired. He drums his fingers on the bar top while he waits, swaying to the thump of the music. The DJ has good taste.

A barstool a few down from his scrapes softly, almost inaudible, but it’s enough to catch his attention and wake him up a bit. Hide swings his head to the right. It’s a man, a _handsome_ man, with snow-white hair, black showing at the roots. Couldn’t be more than a year or two older than himself. He’s radiating with this confidence and poise that makes Hide feel some type of way, and he watches him, oddly mesmerized.

He raises a graceful hand to signal the bartender, and she just nods, still caught up at the other end of the bar, cutting off and convincing some very drunk men to pay and go home. The stranger next to him must be a regular, because as soon as she’s free she starts mixing whatever his usual might be. Hide sighs and goes back to appraising this man. He honestly looks like he belongs in a library, or a classroom; he doesn’t really seem like the barfly type. He could even probably model, if he wanted to. Hide’s appreciating his long eyelashes when his gray eyes slide over to him, and Hide darts his gaze away, stomach swooping. Shit, was he staring? Was he being weird? Hide busies himself with his phone, not sure if the flush in his cheeks is from the alcohol or not.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” the stranger says, and Hide looks up at him again. He’s smiling softly, and Hide’s breath almost catches in his throat. He tilts his head, then hops seats to settle next to Hide, and it’s a bit easier to hear him now, but Hide might just die from how beautiful he looks up-close. “I come here often, so I’m very familiar with the regulars.”

The other falls silent, then, and Hide feels like that’s an invitation for introduction, like he’s waiting for something. Hide can’t shake the sensation that he _knows_ this man, somehow, tickling the back of his brain, and, maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but he’d really like to keep hearing his voice. _Shut up_ , he says internally, and externally, he replies, “Hideyoshi. But I go by Hide.”

The man’s face lights up with satisfaction, and it makes Hide feel suddenly warm. His eyes are thoughtful, curious, probing. They crinkle as he smiles—because he’s noticed Hide staring again. _Shit_. Hide turns abruptly to resolutely bore a hole in the opposite wall large enough for him to crawl into and die. He can hear what sounds like the other shifting slightly in his chair, before he feels someone leaning in towards him, close and warm, and he hears a slow murmur over the music, “call me Kaneki.”

“Kaneki,” Hide repeats, automatically obeying. Maybe if his brain wasn’t mush, he’d be able to think of where he’s seen or heard that name before, but any hope of that is shot when he looks over to see Kaneki grinning at him, something secretive set in his expression. 

“Good,” he acknowledges, sitting back, and Hide’s heart jumps. It feels like a fire is building in the pit of his stomach. Before he can say something stupid, the bartender practically comes out of nowhere and speedily sets whatever Kaneki ordered in front of him, she lets Hide’s paid receipt flutter to settle in front of himself, and then slaps his card on top of it and bustles off to other patrons. Whatever tension that had gripped Hide after that unusually charged exchange has dissipated enough for him to think about something else besides asking Kaneki to boss him around some more. He probably didn’t even mean to do it; Hide’s just reading into things. 

“Seems they keep her busy, huh?” Hide jokes, aiming to break the silence, recover from whatever Kaneki’s doing to him. He reads over his tab and pockets his card, and then tilts his head at Kaneki’s drink. It looks fancy, a deep red in something between a wine glass and a cocktail glass. “What’re you having? I like the flashy stuff myself.”

“You’re leaving so soon?” Kaneki says, instead of answering him, and stirs the drink in question. Hide compulsively swallows. Maybe he _isn’t_ reading into things. But—school—

“I’ve got something tomorrow morning, and it _is_ actually pretty late…” Hide’s hands fidget in his lap, and his heart is racing. _Bad idea, bad idea_ , he tells himself, and stands, stretches. 

“Hm.” Kaneki’s disappointment is practically tangible, and it nearly guts him. Still, he swings his jacket off of the back of his chair, and shrugs it on. Kaneki has raised his glass to his lips, head propped up on his free hand. All of a sudden, the man is made of stone, all steely gray. Hide has the feeling he’s going to spend the rest of the night drinking alone.

Hide hasn’t ordered a ride yet.

He hesitates.

“You know,” Hide clears his throat, “I’m very prone to making poor decisions when I’m stressed out.”

Kaneki stops sipping his drink, and leans back from the bar to look up at him. “Stressed out, huh?”

Hide blanches, stutters, “no, no, not— _you_ aren’t stressing me out! Tomorrow is just—it’s going to be a very long day”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Kaneki pauses to down the rest of his drink, “I’m in the exact same boat.”

Hide blinks as Kaneki slides his seat back to join him on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. He gets a better look at what the other’s wearing, dark wash jeans and a steel blue button down. Hide doesn’t understand how someone can be so slender, so relaxed, yet intimidating. It’s a _really_ good look. He’s a touch shorter than Hide too, but he has an air about him that makes him seem so strong. His mind brings forth the thought of Kaneki looming over him, pressing him up, up, against a wall, making him _beg_ — 

Hide exhales hard, stomach flip-flopping, and realizes he should probably say something, if Kaneki’s cryptic smile means he’s realized Hide’s checking him out. Again. “I’m, uh, sorry to hear that.” 

“Ah, well, it is what it is. I came here to let loose tonight too,” Kaneki sighs. He reaches up and brushes some stray strands of hair out of his face, other arm falling slack. “Actually, I have a running tab because I come here so often, but I digress.”

Hide can’t help the swell of disappointment when he considers the fact that he could just be the next item on Kaneki’s to do list, and it quells some of his brain-addling desire. “So, is this just a regular night for you, or…?”

Kaneki clicks his tongue, and his shoulders hunch, but his eyes are teasing. He says, with no malice, “what kind of a person do you take me for, Hide?”

“You’re the one who said you’re a regular,” Hide points out. Kaneki rolls his eyes and starts making his way to the exit door. People shift out of his way as if on instinct, and Hide wonders if it’s because he just has that powerful a presence. Of course, he follows.

When he catches up to Kaneki, they’re in the cool night air. It’s so much quieter out here, so he doesn’t miss when Kaneki mumbles, “no, the answer is no. You just seemed so—”

“What, lonely?” Hide snorts, but relief washes over him. He shifts so that their shoulders are touching. He convinces himself that it’s because it’s chilly, and that single warm point of contact somehow helps.

Kaneki looks up at him. “I was going to say _cute_.”

“Well, that too, of course!” Hide laughs, and takes a deep breath. So he’s doing this. It would be easier to walk away if he really thought this was a bad decision, but Kaneki chuckles too, and brings his hand to rest on the small of Hide’s back.

“Come on, I called for a taxi,” he says, and Hide obediently follows him to the curb.

“So you planned ahead,” Hide muses, and Kaneki swats his arm with his other hand.

“I was on my way out when you caught my eye. I thought I’d give it a shot,” Kaneki shakes his head, but he’s smiling. It makes Hide smile too.

“You have very good aim.” The car pulls up, and Kaneki opens the back door, withdrawing from Hide to do so.

“You’re too much,” he sighs, already exasperated, and gestures for him to climb in. Just before he complies, he feels a hand on his chest. “You aren’t drunk, are you?”

Hide lays a hand on top of Kaneki’s, and smiles brightly. “Barely buzzed. How about you?”

“No, me neither. Good.” With that, he lets Hide in first, then closes the door behind him. He gives the driver his address—thank god, it’s close to the university, which means it’s close to his apartment. He’ll have time to go home and get ready after—

Hide’s just settled back into his seat when he feels a gentle hand on his chin, before his face is abruptly tilted to the side and down, so that Kaneki can press their lips together. “Hmmh—!”

Kaneki’s lips are so soft, yet demanding, and it’s like the easiest thing in the world to relax and open himself up to the kiss. Fabric rustles against leather as Kaneki comes in closer, rises up to get a better angle, bears down on Hide like a tidal wave. He’s already boneless, swept up in wild currents, completely at Kaneki’s mercy. He clings to him, taking everything he’s given until he’s dizzy and trembling from breathlessness.

They break apart with equal gasps, coming up for air, and the only thing keeping Hide from going back in is the driver clearing his throat. Face burning, Hide straightens back up, buzzing all over. Kaneki gives him a side glance, lips a lovely, rosy shade, and lifts one corner of them in a teasing smile. His eyes are dark and promising, and It’s a long ride to Kaneki’s place with an insistent, hungry desire gnawing at him.

When the cab finally comes to a stop, Hide’s heartbeat picks up again, if it ever even calmed. He watches intently as Kaneki pays the driver accordingly, and ever so slowly climbs out of the car, holding out a hand for Hide to take. Hide slides out and takes his hand, thanking the driver as an afterthought before closing the door. Their hands swing idly between them as they walk along the sidewalk together, up a flight of stairs, down a row of doors. It would almost be romantic, if Hide could get the thought of Kaneki trapping him up against the wall and kissing him senseless again out of his head.

Hide swallows as Kaneki stops, pulling out his keys to let them in. They’re barely inside before Hide gets his wish, backed up against the door. Kaneki fumbles to lock it back up as he’s kissing him, his free hand sliding through Hide’s hair, sending sharp tingles down his spine. There’s a hint of pain as Kaneki carefully but quickly yanks his head back, separating them to toss his keys on a side table. 

Hide, after getting over how absolutely breathtaking Kaneki looks with mussed hair and swollen lips, takes the moment to strip off his jacket, then gets to work on Kaneki’s buttons. Before he gets more than three down, he feels his hands being pulled away, the teasing hint of Kaneki’s firm, smooth chest a lovely distraction. Hide’s eyes finally rise to meet Kaneki’s, and he’s smirking. Hide has to imagine how thoroughly debauched he looks already. Does he look as desperate as he feels? Can Kaneki see what he’s doing to him? It would be embarrassing, if Hide wasn’t so into it. It’s been quite a while since someone broke him down so effortlessly.

He shifts slightly, watching, waiting, and he might even mouth the word _please_ ; he can be patient, he can wait, but that doesn’t mean he can’t _want_. His hands are still caught between Kaneki’s, fingers tangled, but he has no intention of escaping. Kaneki watches him for a moment longer, Hide doesn’t know what for, but he hisses in a breath as Kaneki finally moves, slowly slots a leg between thighs. He can’t help but relish the friction, heart pounding in his ears, rocking into the pressure. 

“Eagar?” Kaneki asks. His tone is chiding, and Hide instantly freezes, straining to keep still. Kaneki then very deliberately shifts his grip from Hide’s fingers to secure his wrists instead, and raises his arms up to force them back against the door. Hide’s breath shudders as Kaneki leans in, putting even more stress right where Hide wants it, _needs it_ , and he can sense the smile at his throat as Kaneki kisses up to his ear, challenging him. He whispers, scathing, “you thought it would be that easy?”

Hide can’t help but whimper, feeling himself achingly hard in his jeans, trapped under Kaneki’s unyielding weight. Kaneki continues, beginning to rock slightly, “when I saw you, I knew you would be so good for me.”

Hide can feel the outline of Kaneki’s dick now, and Hide’s jaw is clenched, sucking in breath through his teeth, fighting the urge to press back. Kaneki has him bound with both his hands and words; his body is completely taut against the door as Kaneki _uses_ him, and, in between short, wet puffs of breath against his ear, Kaneki lilts, “you’re going to let me take care of you, aren’t you?”

Dear god, he’s never had someone pin him as submissive on the first date, let alone a hookup, but Hide can feel himself melting into Kaneki’s hold, offering himself as a means for Kaneki’s pleasure, giving him whatever he wants. His body is electric with stimulation, and he’s panting when Kaneki kisses him tenderly on the jaw, clashing with his rough hold and insistent grinding. He feels breath on his ear again, and suddenly, Kaneki stops, and Hide feels like collapsing. A fervent whisper pulls him back, sending a jolt straight to his dick: “you can be good for me, can’t you?”

“ _Yes_ , god, _yes_ ,” Hide gasps, curtailing into the beginnings of a moan, and then corrects himself immediately, “yes _sir._ ”

Kaneki’s chuckle fans his ear, before moving towards Hide’s lips. “I _knew_ it,” he sighs against them, kissing just the corner of his mouth, and then, firmer, “safe words?”

“Green, go, yellow, slow down, red, stop,” Hide lists. Kaneki continues to press his lips to Hide’s fevered skin as he speaks, and never has he been so turned on by such chaste kisses. He’s never had a dom consistent enough to develop personal safe words, not that he’s done anything too extreme, so those are usually his go tos. He wants to kiss Kaneki so badly, but he holds himself still, realizes that _that’s_ the point. 

“Alright, good.” Kaneki says, seemingly satisfied, and shifts further back, which is exactly the opposite of what Hide wanted him to do. Hide’s arms are trembling, and Kaneki leaves one hand to keep them raised, while the other slides slowly and tenderly down the sensitive skin of his forearms, muscles twitching as he does. Kaneki sighs again, a lax, happy breath, and then reminds Hide of his hard-on as he sinks his hand lower, caresses the tented fabric with a finger, the slight friction on his dick frustrating yet so, _so_ perfect. Hide has to concentrate to hear, “your arms stay up, Hide. Green?”

“Green,” Hide nods, partly glad they’re starting off easy. He’s out of practice; it’s been a year since his last serious relationship, and while she experimented with him, she really couldn’t get behind _really_ dominating him. Which was fine. When they split, he never really bounced back. He breaks from his reverie to focus on Kaneki, who’s finally released his wrists, and stands in front of him, thinking. Once he feels Hide’s eyes are back on him, he smiles softly.

“We can work on better safe words some other time,” he decides, and then sinks to his knees. Hide’s brain nearly short circuits, and his arms fall a fraction, before he straightens them back out, feeling them burn slightly. The pain is grounding, but _some other time_ echoes in his ears.

Kaneki on his knees is a staggering sight; looking up at Hide, the man muses, placating, “unless you’re particularly fond of yours.”

Kaneki’s hands blindly reach for his fly, eyes locked on Hide’s face, his pleasant, conversational tone completely at odds with his actions. It’s making Hide’s head spin. He pauses just short of touching him, as if expecting an answer. Hide clears his throat. “I mean, not really.”

“So, yes?” As Kaneki undoes his pants, Hide realizes what he’s really being asked, and the weight of it hits him hard and fast, his heart thudding in his chest. Maybe it’s because he’s halfway between here and subspace, but the rush when Kaneki finally frees his cock is nearly matched by the cloying happiness he feels. Hide looks back down, vision blurry, and stares at Kaneki’s dark roots, unable to speak.

He sags against the door as Kaneki finally, _finally_ , touches him, keeping his arms rigid as a hand comes up to circle his shaft, but nothing else. The sensation is boiling, combined with the strain in his arms, and it takes everything in him not to take advantage of it and buck into the feeling. “We can talk about specifics later, too. We won’t do anything outside either of our limits tonight, I don’t think.”

Hide breathes through his nose, once, twice, then gathers himself enough to say, to beg, really, “yes, yes, _please_ Kaneki, just—”

Kaneki _tsks_ , and his grip loosens slightly. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Hide can hear the undercurrent of excitement hidden in Kaneki’s tone, but the order is clear. He makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat, and tries again, pleading, “Kaneki, I want you, _please_.”

“Better,” Kaneki hums, and bends until his lips are millimeters away from Hide’s cock. Even his breath puffing against the head is almost too much, and his own breathing is reduced to desperate, quick intakes of air. “Tell me what you want me to do, Hide.”

“God, _ah_ , suck my dick, _please_ ,” Hide begs, throwing his head back against the door, and nearly cries as Kaneki _does_ , slides his lips over Hide’s cock, laving it with his tongue. It’s unexpected, he was sure Kaneki would deny him again, and Hide has to fight not to drop his hands into Kaneki’s hair, gritting his teeth. The hand not on his dick fastens tightly to his hips, keeping him from thrusting as he’s carefully and slowly swallowed by Kaneki’s wet heat. Kaneki’s intent is obvious—don’t move, take what he’s given. Instead, he screws his eyes shut, shaking, trying to hold himself still for Kaneki. The pace is brutal, but he can’t keep himself from gasping, muttering, “ _H-ahh_ , _hah_ , yes, thank you, thank you—”

Kaneki takes his time, pressing his tongue flat against the underside of his cock as he draws back in a slow, teasing slide. Hide’s head lolls forwards as he watches Kaneki disconnect with a pop, an interesting look on his face. He gives Hide a few quick strokes with the hand holding him steady, the slick friction almost too much.

“Ah, Hide,” he says, moving closer to almost nuzzle into his dick, his soft lips playful and teasing, “you taste so _good_.”

Hide nearly chokes, and Kaneki’s lips curl against him in a smile before he’s back to sucking, not much faster, but still intense enough that Hide gets the sense Kaneki’s really, _really_ enjoying this, swallowing him down, deeper, like it’s effortless. Hide can’t complain, chest heaving as he stretches against the door, toes curling, muscles spasming. God, _god_ , it’s good, it’s too good, and he’s trembling—Kaneki starts to make soft, contented noises, little moans that resonate in his mouth, along Hide’s dick, picking up the pace now, like it’s Kaneki that’s desperate for it, panting through his nose. _Oh_ , god, his fucking tongue, and his throat, _so tight_ , such a good fucking feeling. His pants have turned into open-mouthed, breathy groans, and his arms are shaking badly now, aching with a fierceness that doubles his pleasure. Kaneki doesn’t break pace, taking him deep every time, sliding a hand up under his shirt and splaying his fingers against his twitching stomach.

There’s—too much sensation for Hide to even think, _ha-ah_ , he can’t dial in on any one thing, but, he’s close, _god, god—_

_He can’t—_

“Ah— _ah_ , yellow, _yellow, yellow_ —”

In an instant, Kaneki pushes away from him, rising to catch him as he crumples forward, a heavy sob bubbling out from his chest as he loses that high, _so achingly close_ , to have it torn away. His arms, shaking, latch around Kaneki’s neck, and he sags into his warmth, breathing slowly until his throat loses that uncomfortable tightness, and his eyes stop stinging. He realizes that Kaneki is mumbling to him, sweet nothings, _good job_ , _you’re alright, that’s it, deep breaths._ When Hide finally shifts to stand on his own, he feels slightly embarrassed. He probably could have done better, lasted longer—

Kaneki’s hands frame his face, tilting his head forcibly to look at him directly. “Hide, are you ok? I didn’t mean to push you so far, if that was too demanding—”

“No, no, it wasn’t you,” Hide scrambles to explain, distracted by Kaneki’s spit-slick face, and he’s warming up again, “I just—I didn’t want to come without permission.”

Kaneki blinks at him, then, huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Oh—oh my god.”

“I know, it’s stupid,” Hide says thickly, face heating, but Kaneki silences him with a _very_ wet, open-mouthed kiss, leaning him gently back against the door and using his hands to tilt Hide’s chin until he’s gasping, and then Kaneki’s tongue delves past his lips, completely controlling him in a kiss. When Kaneki pulls away, he’s panting, and Hide’s not any better off. His breath catches when one hand slides up to his hair, and then stops when the other migrates to his neck. 

“It’s not stupid,” Kaneki says, carding a hand through Hide’s hair. His voice is sweet, gentle, even as he holds Hide’s head bent backwards by his throat, keeping his breathing shallow. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it. I was going to let you come, but I probably should’ve said beforehand. I’m sorry.”

Hide can’t do much but whisper, “ _Ka-n-e—”_

Kaneki hums. “You were very, _very_ good, Hide. I’m happy.”

And—and then Hide understands, that Kaneki is right, he did what he was supposed to, gave Kaneki what he wanted, until he couldn’t, and that it’s alright. Kaneki must see the shift in his expression, because he releases his grip, and Hide gasps, drops his head to Kaneki’s shoulder, and breathes.

“I think you deserve a reward,” Kaneki says into his hair, then, quieter, “ _such a_ good _boy_ ,” and that goes straight to Hide’s dick, bringing him out of fogginess to sharp focus. He’s getting hard again, and Kaneki brushes his long fingers down Hide’s back once before drawing back. His erection twitches as Kaneki appraises it with interest, just the thought of earlier sending spikes of heat through his groin. “Follow me.”

Hide, not wanting to trip, steps out of his jeans and boxers, and leaves them piled with his jacket by the door. Kaneki leads him to his bedroom, and Hide’s anticipation swells in tandem with his cock. As Kaneki approaches the bed, he undoes his shirt the rest of the way, before deftly stripping away his jeans. Hide stands, searing, unsure what to do, as Kaneki throws them in the hamper, looking mouthwatering in just his black briefs. He’s _toned_ , more so than his frame would suggest, and Hide wants nothing more than to worship every inch of him. He remembers that Kaneki likes to be told exactly what he wants. “Please, Kaneki, sir. I want—I need to touch you.”

Kaneki turns from his hamper to smile at him devilishly. It’s almost frightening, like something darker is lurking just behind it, but that just makes Hide more desperate to know how far Kaneki would be able to push him. “Very, _very_ good, Hide.”

oOo 

Kaneki’s alarm wakes him up. Hide’s body protests as he sits slowly, rolls his shoulders. He looks over—Kaneki’s side of the bed is empty, but it’s probably for the best. It’s 6:45 which is way, _way_ too early for Hide’s tastes, especially after last night (or, earlier that morning, but, semantics). He still has to get dressed, get a ride over to his place, shower, get ready. Hide scrunches his face into a grimace, then peels the covers back and clambers out of bed. Drifting towards the dresser, turning the alarm off as he goes, he wonders if Kaneki would mind him borrowing a little something to wear. Blearily, he grabs the first sweater and sweatpants that he can find, but opts to hold them instead. He’ll ask permission before putting anything on.

 _“Please, sir, please fuck me,”_ he can hear himself saying, the memory of Kaneki’s insistent hands blazing on his skin. Kaneki had flipped them instead, so that he was under Hide, grinning dangerously, wickedly, up at him and told him, _“show me how much you want It and I’ll think about fucking you like you think you deserve.”_

A thrill runs up his spine as he plods barefoot out of the bedroom, and even though he’s dead tired, he can’t help but want a round 2 (or, 4 or 5, but, _semantics_ ). He follows his ears to the kitchen where Kaneki, already dressed, is puttering around. He’s—well, for starters, he’s wearing _glasses_ , which is incredibly adorable. He’s also dressed like a librarian, sweater vest, slacks, and all, and Hide can’t stop his snort.

Kaneki starts and jerks his head over to Hide, eyes wide, before relaxing, and Hide hesitates in the entryway. He didn’t mean to scare him. Kaneki breathes carefully, deliberately, and says, “sorry, I forgot I had someone over. I’m not normally that jumpy, I swear.”

“You look like an English teacher,” Hide blurts, and then, remembering, “can I borrow these? To, uh, wear home?”

Kaneki blinks, then looks down at what he’s holding. “Oh, sure. You can—just bring them back, wherever’s convenient. And, I hope I look like a _cool_ English teacher, at least.” He’s blushing, expression melting into a small, muted smile, back to fixing a plate of food, and Hide finds it hard to reconcile the image with the fierce man who made him beg to come last night. It’s—adorable, that Kaneki doesn’t really know what to do with himself when he isn’t domming the shit out of somebody.

 _“Take it, take it.”_ Hide can feel Kaneki’s panted breath in his ear again as he remembers arching back into his chest, held tightly against Kaneki, being fucked mercilessly from behind, overwhelmed and wordless. Fucked like he deserved. 

Hide, mouth dry, goes ahead and dresses as Kaneki grabs the plate and brings it over. “I made breakfast. Since you have a big day, and all. It’s—I mean, it’s not gourmet, but I hope it’ll do.”

Hide grins brightly, slipping back into reality, as he pops his head out of the sweater. It’s nice and comfy, and it smells like Kaneki. Grounding. “Thank you so much! Is that coffee too? I can’t stay long, but, uh, we can chill for just a bit, right?”

Kaneki nods, and leads them to a little nook with a small table set up in the corner. There’s a few books with those sticky note bookmarks pushing out of them, and one is laid open, highlighted, margins filled with scribbles. There’s supplies kind of scattered everywhere, and Hide gets the sense that not a lot of meals are actually eaten here. This is a work zone only. “Oh, just ignore all this. I’m doing research and I tend to make a bit of a mess when I get into it.”

“It’s fine,” Hide assures, carefully clearing a spot for the both of them, and then suggests, “why don’t you sit, let me get the coffee? And do you have a plate?”

“I already ate,” Kaneki says, quickly, flustered, helping him move things one handed, and shakes his head. “I like—I really like taking care of you. So just. Sit. Stay.”

“Yessir,” Hide mock solutes, sits straight-backed and poised. Kaneki rolls his eyes, sets his food in front of him, and steps back into the kitchen, and Hide laughs. He calls after him, “you’re really good at it, you know!”

“Oh, I know,” he calls back, and Hide can hear the smile in his voice.

oOo

By the time Hide actually makes it to school, his exhaustion is really starting to set in. Does he regret anything? _Hell no_. Does his body regret sleeping for like four hours after letting Kaneki have his way with him? _Perhaps_. Of course, the pot is sweetened quite a bit, as he’s got a brand new number in his phone, and what feels like a promising relationship in the making. There’s a flutter of nerves as he thinks about how he and Kaneki are probably more than just compatible in the bedroom, but he’s not sure how much Kaneki wants from him yet. At this point, all he can do is deal with it later—he has a break after his literature class where he can find someplace on campus to probably snooze for a bit, and wax poetic about his crush.

Since it’s his senior year—and yikes, isn’t _that_ horrifying—he’s got mostly electives anyways, but he’d put off his Lit requirements til now because there were so many other cool classes to take. Most of his electives so far have been either on psychology, music, or English, but literature just seemed so _boring_ that he’d just kept pushing it back. And now, he’s gonna be the only senior in a room full of freshman probably, which, yikes. Again.

Mistakes, mistakes. Maybe he’ll do better with someone to keep him in line, and Hide grins at the thought. Damn, he really is smitten.

He finds the English building and slips inside, going upstairs to a classroom on the smaller side. There’s a few people already waiting, sitting on their phones with notebooks out, and Hide rolls his eyes. Freshman. No way will the professor make them take notes on the first day.

This class, Hide thinks, is actually taught by a grad student, but he can’t be bothered to pull out his schedule and check. Still, that makes it even less likely that they’ll be getting a lecture. Grad students are fun and all, but not all of them are built for teaching; with a class this size, maybe they’ll have an easier job handling it. Hide remembers his grad student TA for his Calculus class with very little fondness. He’d just prefer someone experienced, is all.

It’s two minutes til class starts, now, the room mostly filled up. Hide’s on his phone, slumped back in his chair, yellow jacket zipped up to his chin so he’s sinking into the collar, nice and comfy. He swipes to his contacts, then smirks, before texting Kaneki on a whim: _could really use a nap right about now. for some reason, im suuuper worn out._

He doesn’t get anything back, but he figures Kaneki is busy with whatever thing he’s got going on today. It still makes him feel nice and fuzzy inside. He sends: _but im not rlly mad about it <3 _before he can second guess himself. Heh. He stretches and sits up as the clock rolls over on the hour, with no sign of the professor—or, grad student, whatever. He’s about to crack a _we can leave in 15 minutes if the professor doesn’t show_ joke, when the door at the front opens, and a man rushes inside, setting the folder he’s clutching down on the podium.

Oh. Oh god.

Hide leans forward in his seat, covering the lower half of his face with his hands as _Kaneki_ pulls a stack of papers out of that folder, steps out and to the front row to pass them over to a student. “Sorry about the wait, my advisor was wishing me luck for teaching my first class and he really just kept me for way longer than I anticipated.”

Kaneki centers himself on the stage—looking like an English teacher, holy _shit_ —and smiles. “Welcome to my Special Topics class, Appreciating and Evaluating Modern Literature. I’m Kaneki Ken, and I’m aiming to be a professor. I finally got approved to teach a class, so, here we are. I’m not very fond of ice-breakers, so we won’t be doing any of that. If you take a look at your syllabus…”

Hide takes a syllabus as the stack comes his way, and he scans the front page. This is not happening. He slept with someone who’s teaching one of his classes. He was _ruined_ last night by his fucking Lit teacher. Kaneki is still talking, but Hide can’t really hear over the ringing in his ears. He watches Kaneki’s eyes travel over the classroom, smiling excitedly, and then—they stop on him. Kaneki doesn’t stop talking, but his face twitches, barely concealing his surprise. For anyone not currently staring at his beautiful face, it’s imperceptible, but Hide waves sheepishly and then the moment passes.

Fuck. It’s—it’s _hot_ , but it’s such a conflict of interest. _He’s not a professor_ , he reasons, fleetingly. _Hm_. He tunes back in, a little less panicked. He’ll figure it out later. Much later. But for now, he listens. He can be good, in the meantime.

“In this class, I’m not going to ask you to write what you think I want to hear. A lot of essay-based classes are like that, I think,” Kaneki is saying, reading off of the syllabus. “We’re going to do several small writing assignments, but it’s mostly to make sure you _are_ reading, and thinking critically. I want you to be able to express your opinions eloquently and understandably. Then, we’ll move on to a single book everyone is going to read and report on, and see if we can get some good discussion going.”

A girl raises her hand in the front, and Kaneki nods in her direction. “So, we can choose what we want to write on for the assignments to start?”

“Essentially. I want to get a feel for who you are as writers. This is a pretty small class, so I don’t think that’ll be a problem. I think literature is like art—different pieces speak to different people. If I box you in from the start, then how can I expect to get to know you?”

At this, he looks up at Hide, and quirks his lips into a smile. Hide flushes. Kaneki already knows him very well. Boldly, he decides to raise his hand as well. “You’re grading more on participation than skill, then. If we all write on different things, how can we be assessed equally?”

Kaneki purses his lips, and holds a finger to his chin. “I wouldn’t say that. This class is about _developing_ skills to express yourself. I guess I’m grading more on progress.”

Kaneki smiles, again, wryly, “and to be fair, it seems to me you’re more _experienced_ than your classmates. Being a senior, I assume.”

“Right,” Hide says, heart pounding. “So, how would you gauge _my_ progress, if I’m already a developed writer?”

“Oh, no one is perfect. There’s always room for improvement.” Kaneki grins now, playing along. “I’m sure you’ll find this class very helpful.”

Another student interjects, putting an end to their game. “We would each need individual baselines. It seems like a lot of work for you, Kaneki-san.”

“I’m always willing to put in extra work to make sure students are getting what they need from me,” Kaneki assures, “and that’s a perfect segue into your first assignment!”

The class groans, but Hide is positively vibrating. “Oh, don’t be _too_ upset. Just take the rest of class to tell me about the last book you read, and make a case for it if you liked it, or tell me what you would change and why to make it more palatable. Really think about what the author was trying to do with the work, and if they accomplished what they wanted.” 

**Author's Note:**

> 😳


End file.
